


Glasses

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Season 3 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2325902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most guys preferred her without her glasses anyway; fed her the lines of being able to see her eyes better, or see more of her face.</p><p>She never quite believed them, but she’d never let herself dwell on it either.  </p><p>Until Oliver Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** So this happened after I saw the Season 2 gag reel and the adorable moment between Stephen and Emily when they were filming the scene in 2x14. 
> 
> It was written quickly - sorry if it’s not quite up to par. 
> 
> As always, I’d love to know what you think! Thank you!!!

Felicity Smoak’s glasses were a part of her - an appendage of sorts - as important to her as her arms and her legs. 

She’d been wearing them since the fifth grade. Contacts hadn’t been an option when it was just her and her mom - living from paycheck to paycheck on the Vegas strip. By the time she was at MIT, she’d tried them, and kept them for certain events, but preferred her glasses since most of her waking hours were spent staring at various types of screens. 

And if she was honest, they completed her image. 

Queen’s Consolidated had courted her during her junior year at MIT after her favorite professor talked her up to the head of their Human Resources department at a career fair. Despite the sweaty palms and racing heart, she’d aced the interview, and had felt more professional - older even - with her glasses. 

She was hired before she graduated top of her class, meeting with the CFO, Walter Steele, in her middle of her senior year. 

She’d been teased - called the gamut of names. She’d been stereotyped as the ‘geek’ and ‘nerd.’ She’d learned in high school most of the boys preferred her without the thick frames adorning her face. College was more of the same, except for the relationship that she still couldn’t talk about - even to this day. It was the closest she’d come to loving someone - giving someone her heart - and it took years to get over.

She intimately knew the hazards of glasses when it came to intense make-out sessions or any form of personal contact with her face. She’d become accustomed to not wearing them on dates, or taking them off when snuggling on the couch with a boyfriend.

Most guys preferred her without them anyway; fed her the lines of being able to see her eyes better, or see more of her face.

She never quite believed them, but she’d never let herself dwell on it either. 

Until Oliver Queen.

The first time Oliver Queen kissed her was in a hospital hallway just after Lyla had her baby. 

She’d been babbling about the how happy she was for Diggle, unable to contain her excitement at a new life - a new addition - to their little family.

She’d been rambling on about the latest research she’d done on baby toys and what she wanted to get them as a gift when Oliver had stepped up to her, invading her personal space, and making her heart stutter, breath caught in her throat.

Her words had trailed off as her world narrowed down to him - his crystal blue eyes twinkling with happiness that tugged at something deep within her heart - making it flutter and spring to life. Seeing him happy created a wave of uncontrollable joy that flowed throughout her. She’d seen him at some of his lowest points since he’d been back, and to see him this happy - where his smile spread to every facet of his face - was a gift that held indescribable and indefinite value.

His large, warm hands had cupped her face, calloused fingers sliding over her cheeks and down her face to the sensitive skin beneath her ears, causing a delicious shiver to skitter down her spine. Anticipation blossomed within her, heat spreading like wildfire as her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribs.

His name fell from her lips just before they covered hers, and she was lost to him.

She’d felt his nose brush her glasses, shifting them higher on her face, but that had been the last time she thought of them as his mouth brushed against her in a soft rush of emotion and years of sexual tension that left her gasping for breath. 

One, two, three times, he’d let his lips trail across hers until she surged towards him, pushing up further onto the balls of her feet, her free hand coming to wrap around his wrist and hold on tight. 

She felt the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath her fingers, and it only spurred her on as he swept his tongue along her lips until she parted for him.

Everything was warm and light and good…so good. A delightful buzz spread over her skin and she hummed in pleasure as they parted, both dragging in deep breaths.

She pressed her head against one of his hands, reveling in the heat radiating from his touch - the way she felt that one sensation all over her body.

His thumbs ran up her cheeks, and when she finally had to lower herself back to the floor, her feet protesting, his fingers bumped against her glasses, pushing them up.

She chuckled softly as she let her eyes flutter open, cheeks heating as she bit her lip in slight embarrassment. But all of that quickly disappeared once she saw the intense and all-consuming look in Oliver’s gaze.

No one had ever looked at her quite like that. All encompassing love was staring back at her, and she’d never felt more alive than she did in that moment.

Her body had hummed with extra energy, confidence soaring as this man gazed upon her with desire and adoration and love.

A soft smile had lifted his lips and he’d shifted his hands to right her glasses, fingertips tracing the edges all the way to the rims.

Her breath had caught in her throat when he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and then down, over the bridge of her nose where her glasses rested.

Ever since then, Felicity noticed that Oliver never once asked her to remove her glasses when they kissed, or during any of the many times they’d ended up sprawled across her couch or up against the wall in the Foundry. 

She finally asked him about it once, as they lay tangled in her sheets, her chin propped on his chest as his hands traced sweeping patterns of chinese and Cyrillic letters on her back. She’d long ago learned that’s what he was doing after questioning him about it. (Sometimes it was her name - other times it was simple words, like ‘love’ and ‘light’ or a ancient proverb. No matter what they were, they always had meaning and she always asked him just before she fell asleep to him whispering the words against her hair.)

She was sure that’s what he thought she was going to ask about this time, until a different question filled the space between them.

He stared at her, eyebrows furrowing as she babbled on about not liking her with her contacts in and how usually it was the opposite with guys…

Her words were cut off with a soft kiss to her lips, his stomach muscles bunching as he leaned up towards her.

Both hands framed her face, warmth surrounding her and she couldn’t help her natural reaction to close her eyes and lean into his touch. She let out a soft breath and sighed, nuzzling her nose into his right hand before opening her eyes once more.

“I met you with your glasses on,” he finally said, his voice soft yet scratchy with emotion. “And the moment you looked up at me, wide eyes and that damned red pen in your mouth, not bothered by who I was, or that I was telling you a ridiculous lie, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years…”

Felicity swallowed around the lump in her throat, eyes watering as he brought his face close and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Hope.”

She let out a stuttered breath and closed the gap between their mouths, seeking him, the part of her heart shaped just for him calling out for it’s other half.

Her glasses bumped his nose but she didn’t care, and she swept her tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his, until they both had to pull back for air.

“I love you,” she breathed against his lips, heart overflowing with the desire to tell him, shout from the rooftops, how much she loved and was in love with this man. This man who’d survived so much; been forged through water and fire, and come out a hero - someone who she was proud to stand by each day and night.

He flipped them before she had a chance to catch her breath, and he was suddenly staring down at her with a look filled with the same feeling he said she’d given him that first day.

Leaning down, arms braced on either side of her head, he kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the tops of her glasses and then her cheeks.

“I love you,” he replied. “All of you, with or without glasses. Blonde hair or brunette…”

She gasped, eyes narrowing and she was about to protest him speaking aloud her secret, but he huffed out a soft chuckle against her mouth and silenced her before she could utter a word.

Afterwards, as they lay once again, entangled in her sheets, her glasses now resting on their bedside table - he’d made love to her with and without them on - proving a point, he’d told her, and she hadn’t complained.

“You help me be who I am,” he whispered into her skin. “I’m only as strong as you are…and you are the strongest person I know.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly and she burrowed her head into the crook of his neck, her body draped over his as he held her close.

“We’re strongest together,” she reminded him, her voice beginning to slur together as sleep crept up on her.

One broad palm stroked down her back, the other trailing through her hair.

And as he let out a long sigh, turning his head into hers, his face against her cheek, breathing her name, she knew he’d heard her.

When she woke up in the morning, she blinked open tired eyes to see her glasses sitting on the nightstand. Oliver was wrapped around her from behind, his face buried in her hair, on strong arm held her to him.

A smile graced her lips as she turned her head to press a kiss against his bicep, finding his fingers and lacing them together.

He squeezed her fingers, and she realized that Oliver had come to be a part of her as well - just like her glasses and her computers and her brightly colored clothes.

He was a part of her - a part of her _heart_.


End file.
